As Cold As Ice
by Twistedsystem009
Summary: Annika and Vilkas never got along. They always insulted each other, or sparred until they vomited for a week straight. With the death of their beloved harbinger, Kodlak Whitemane, Vilkas confronts Annika with misdirected anger. After that, she's just not the same. When she returns to normal on a camping trip with Vilkas, both of their worlds spiral out of control.
1. Chapter 1 Blank

Vilkas' gaze flicked over to Annika. Her expression was distant as she stared at the roaring flames. Her honey-brown hair cascaded loosley across her shoulders and down to her ribcage. Her gaze slid to him and her expressionless face tormented him. He looked away, his chest throbbing painfully. He hated to see her like this; ever since Kodlak's death, the usual snide remarks and insults that made him twinge had vanished, leaving an empty shell. Every time he had to report to her, he had to look straight into those dull, unfeeling eyes.

Everyone had tried to help her. Even Farkas had failed in cheering her up. _Farkas._ Njada had attempted to challenge her to a fight. Annika just shook her head and kept staring into the flames. Looking at her now, he saw the pain and sorrow cross her face and realized that she was in as much pain as the rest of them. He stood with a sigh, the scrape of his chair on the floor breaking the silence. He snatched up two bottles of ale and pulled up a chair in front of the hearth. Her eyes slid to him again and she acknowledged him.

"Vilkas." Her voice was expressionless.

"Yes, it's me."

He handed her one of the ale bottles and lifted it to her lips. She took the bottle out of his hands, surprising him with the sudden action. She drained the bottle in one gulp and let it shatter on the hearth. For a few moments, she was completely still, then she sighed and put her head in her hands. Vilkas was taken aback. For the past several weeks, she had never gotten this close to showing even a hint of emotion. There was a split second where Vilkas considered comforting her and he reached out his hand.

"Vilkas?" The sorrow in her voice made Vilkas twinge.

"Yes?" The words lingered on his lips.

She looked up at him, her expression wistful as she said,

"I.." She hesitated.

"I...can't do this." Her voice became thick with emotion.

"What?" He sound more concerned than he felt.

"Life." She answered.

"Annika," He whispered.

"Come on." He took her hand.

"What?" She demanded, her feet dragging on the ground.

"We're going...somewhere."

A few minutes later, they were riding down the cobblestone road out of Whiterun. He tried to forget that he was riding behind her, but it was impossible. Her thighs were tossed repeatedly against his backside, making his groin throb. He cursed silently and continued to ride, urging the horse into a sprint.

It only made it worse.

That night, they made a camp a few miles away from Lorieus farm. The tent that he had in his pack was small and they were forced to share it together. He had only brought one large blanket, so they had to share that, too. Sometime during the night, he heard her start to sob. Looking over at her, he saw that she wasn't awake, but the tears were definately real. He recognized that type of crying and a memory came back to him.

_"Where were you?!" He growled, anger rising in his chest._

_"Doing a job for Kodlak. What happened?" Her voice was panicked, but you couldn't see it on her face. _

_"Well, that means you weren't here to protect him when the Silverhand attacked." _

_Without him having to tell her, tears started rolling down her cheeks, shining in the moonlight._

_"He's dead now. And it's all your fault." He accused harshly, spitting on the ground in front of her feet._

_The tears became more rapid and she pushed past him, air evading her. He followed her back to Jorvaskr, hatred filling the pit of his stomach every time she took a step. She froze in front of Kodlak's limp form, eyes widening and breath stopping abrubtly. Aela stood and put a hand on her shoulder. Annika shook it away and started towards the training yard._

_"Where do you think you're going?" He called._

_"Wherever I want to." She snapped, turning to face him._

_"Aren't you going to stay? Help prepare him for his FUNERAL?!" Vilkas screamed._

_"Stop." Her voice was steady, but you could hear the sorrow in her tone._

_"Why should I? You caused this, you good for nothing bit-"_

_"FUS RO-DA!"_

_A searing pain tore through his chest as he hit the display case. He heard the doors slamming shut, but he was blinded by the pain._

_"Vilkas-" Aela started and he saw her form halfway through to the training yard doors._

_"Annika!" She called and the doors slammed shut again._

He was surprised they ever put up with each other after that.


	2. Chapter 2 Riverside

I awoke just as a dim light crept over the wide plains. I crawled out of the tent and started a fire, then sat and enjoyed the sunrise. Vilkas woke shortly after and sat across the fire, silently staring at me. I cooked breakfast and retrieved two bottles of ale. We ate breakfast in an even more uncomfortable silence than before. After I had cleaned the plates, washed out the ale bottles and put them in the saddlebags, and put out the fire, I faced Vilkas and stared straight into his steely eyes.

"Let's go." I said, clearing my throat.

I let him climb onto the horse first and followed him. The journey back to Whiterun was short and uneventful, but it felt like somewhere in my mind, something was being unveiled. By the time we made it through the gates, I was overflowing with emotions. When we made it to Jorvaskr, I began to run down to the harbinger's quarters. When I made it there, I snatched my leather journal from the table, along with a quill, and began to scribble furiously. A few minutes later, I looked down at what I drawn and dropped the journal in shock. What I had drawn was the tattoo on my left shoulder, which intersected with a long scar the trailed to my right hip. Where I had gotten the tattoo and the scar was a...touchy subject. I jumped when I heard someone enter the room.

"Annika, are you all right?" Vilkas asked slowly, seating himself next to me.

"Mmm-hmm. Why?" I asked.

"On the way back you kept...chanting something under your breath."

"What was it?" I demanded, freezing in shock.

"_T'Que...gil'hia ftorn, yon fo la. Daswhag! Daswhag!_" He repeated.

I exhaled in a sharp gust and clutched my left shoulder.

"T'Que." I said suddenly, standing.

"What?"

"T'Que." I repeated tonelessly.

"Annika, what-" He started, but I was already gone.

**T'Que**

The darkness called me forward, urging the moon higher into the sky and swirling the wind around my face. It whipped my hair around my face and made my eyes water, but it was welcomed. The blood from riding bareback soaked through my breeches and the armour on top of them. My feet swung uselessly without stirrups and my fingers clutched Winterburn's brown mane tightly. As we approached a shimmering barrior, he whinned and came to an abrubt halt, almost tossing me over his head. I gingerly climbed off of him and limped towards the magical wall. I pressed a hand to it and murmured a word in our ancient language. A hole formed in it and I stepped inside. Up ahead, there was a house placed atop a river. I eyed the woman sitting on the deck chair closest to the stream and reached out to her mind.

_T'Que._

_Annika._

_Your methods of reaching me were dangerous. For both of us._

_I had no other choice._

Now I had made my way up to the deck. A long table with benches had candles placed down the middle, which provided a soft glow. T'Que was a tall woman with blonde hair and deep brown eyes. She was very pale and always wore the finest clothes. I sat on a bench behind her. She turned to face me and said,

"Did you recognize the ancient language?"

"Always."

"And the drawings?"

"I'll never forget."

"Good," She smiled satisfactorily.

"Eat." She gestured to the table, which was empty except for a silver plate and goblet.

I ate slowly and sipped the wine between thoughts. When I finished, T'Que put on a fake smile and said,

"I trust you can find your old room."

I nodded and walked to the wooden door that led to the Riverside Lodge, which was the name of this small estate. My room had always been near the smithy and the scholar's hall. It was small room, with a single bed and a nightstand. There was also a small wardrobe in the corner. I placed my armour on one of the hooks and carefully wrapped my wounds with cloth strips. I tossed my breeches onto the back of a chair and pulled down my tunic as far as it would go, which was just below my hips. I slept soundly that night, but feared what might come the next day.


	3. Chapter 3 On The Inside

I pulled the covers farther up, blocking out the icy temperture of the room. My eyes flickered open for a second or two, closed, then opened again. T'Que sat, straighbacked, in the chair in the corner, eyeing the hazardous state of the room in distaste. She tossed back her golden hair when she saw me and said,

"Good, you're awake. You will eat, then we will talk." She spoke carefully, for she hadn't spoken in plain english for...years.

"_Ja_." I answered, reaching for a dress that had been thrown across the table.

With another glance of disgust, she left the room. I pulled off my tunic and observed the dress with cautious eyes. It was a normal barkeep dress, with a pair of light brown boots, yet my stomach sunk when I saw it. People of the Kio'rori cult only wore the finest clothes and garments. Yes, they had included a jade and emerald circlet, but my title was still disgraced. I pushed away my thoughts and dressed quickly, making a crown with two loose braids and letting the rest of my hair flow freely down my back. I held myself like royalty as I walked through the stone halls. Heads turned and whispers filled my ears. Most of the Nords, Redguards, and Bretons bowed, while the elves looked on in disgust, and the Argonians, Khajeet, and Orcs acted neutral and acknowledged me with a slight bow of their heads.

I breathed in the fresh spring air and stepped forward, the rushing waterfall beckoning me closer. T'Que sat, once again, on the chair in front of the waterfall. She glanced at me and skimmed over my outfit, then muttered,

"Hmph. They went with slutty barmaid. 10 septims for J'oel."

I bit back a witty remark and perched myself on a stool next to her chair. She flashed me another judgemental glance and drawled,

"There is a reason for calling you back."

"What? Did you need me to fight?" I raised an eyebrow.

"No, of course not. You walked out on us and I wasn't going to call you back for something as petty as a fight." She tossed back her hair, insulted.

"Tis' a war that brings a traitor such as you back. You were one of our best and losing you was at a great cost." She added stiffly.

"A war with elves reunites us, sister." She stood, her voice suddenly filled with fire and her eyes alight with joy.

"The barrior is being broken, by the elves' magic, of course. They found out about the prison. We are vulnerable, sister. We need _you_."

"You need me to fight." I stated dully.

She nodded.

"What about my knowledge? I know far more about the elves than any of the half wits you call scholars!" I insisted, now standing and clenching my fists.

"If you choose to help us form a plan...so be it." Her voice was clipped.

I turned on my heel and angrily stormed off the deck and back into the lodge.

_She's so...won't even let me...thinks I'm only a warrior...I have..._

Vilkas' head snapped up. It was Annika's mental link. He was close.

_Fiorg tan! The barrior's breaking...if I could restore it...? With the word it uses to op..._

He ran forwards, until he was bounced off of a magical forcefield that shimmered when he hit it.

_Tihori Tana. I could create a spell for that...then settle the dispute with the elves. I could walk away from this place forever. Cut all my ties and purge T'Que's access to my mind completely._

"Tihori Tana." He murmured and a hole seven feet high opened in the wall, then he stepped through it.

Inside was a hole different world. The foliage was greener and the water flowed freely. A wooden building perched near a waterfall caught his eye. He made his way towards it. As he traversed towards the deck, a group of armored men appeared around him. A woman dressed in fine clothes came stomping down from the deck. She was blonde and pretty, sure, but she didn't have the same beauty as Annika.

Annika had warrior beauty. Hard abs, muscley thighs, and a lean body. Her eyes were ages old and she held knowledge in most everything. This woman was more of a...noble. She was tall and thin. Her clothes were fine and her silky hair thrown delicately behind her shoulders.

"Halt! The reason you enter, brother?"

"I am here for Annika."

Her eyes widened in horror.

**Thanks for all of the awesome reviews! I love you guys :)**


	4. Chapter 4 Arrival

Vilkas was lead through the night by the guards armoured in deep blue, with amethyst cuts in the center of their helms. As they passed the forest, his beast senses heightened and began struggling for release, but he withheld it.

"Get Kvit-Shey Annika." The blonde woman said quietly, venom lacing her voice.

When the guards returned with Annika, she seemed mostly asleep, but her eyes widened when she saw what was happening. Her eyes flickered to something over his shoulder and she turned to the blonde woman, eyes sparking.

"No, T'Que! You won't do this." Her voice twisted in his mind, as someone cut his wrist.

"T'Que!" Annika shouted. When nothing seemed work,

"FUS RO-DA!"

The guards released him and went flying backwards, into the waterfall, where their screams could be heard. T'Que turned to Annika and said furiously,

"Traitor! You can't be expected to keep your secret from the elves! They'll kill you in seconds!"

"_I _will live, but the same can't be said for you. You have about as enough strength to hold a blade as an old woman!" Annika shrieked in reply.

"We never needed you! I only called you back to watch you crumble!" T'Que couldn't hide the fear in her eyes at the prospect of Annika leaving.

"Oh, really? Than you don't mind if I LEAVE!" Annika turned to Vilkas and snatched up one of the guard's black daggers near his feet.

"What are going to do then, hmm? Wed a warrior, become a housewife?" T'Que's voice was low and threatning now.

"No, sweetie. That's you." Annika spun on her heel and started to drag Vilkas down to the barrior.

"Wed _him_?!" T'Que shrieked at the top of her lungs.

"I hate this man! I hate him for putting me down! For blaming me for someone's death! Someone who was like a father to me! I hate him for making me cry myself to sleep every night!"

Silence fell over the argument and the drugs that had veiled Vilkas' mind dissipated.

"Annika..." He whispered.

"Let's go." Her voice was hard, like her eyes. Her jaw clenched and her cheeks sucked in, Vilkas could tell she was restraining a massive wave of tears. For a second, he thought of pulling her to his chest and holding her tightly, while sobs racked her body and she pressed her cheek against his chest.

"We'll be back to Whiterun before nightfall." Annika's voice broke during the sentence.

During their ride, Vilkas managed to get close enough to see Annika's face. Tears shined in the moonlight, but were quickly whipped away by the fierce wind. Annika urged her horse to go faster and Vilkas stayed behind her for the rest of the journey.

When they reached Jorvaskr, Annika stood on the before the room and took a deep breath. She grabbed a mead bottle from the table and drained it. Then, she let it shatter on the hearth and the flames lick the tinted glass.

"Torga To Shey." She whispered.

They didn't speak for the rest of the night.

**Did that seem to Twilight-ish? I hate Twilight. Please, **_**please**_** say no. Anyway, I feel good about this chapter...kinda. At the end of this fanfiction, I'm going to include a translation and pronunciation guide for all of the parts of the elder language that I didn't have meanings for in the story. **

**Well...see ya. :)**


	5. Chapter 5 Meeting

Annika rolled over in her bed, tear tracks still on her cheeks. She stood and stretched, sore from the long night of horse riding. The outbreak would have Vilkas asking questions-questions that she would have no patience to answer. Brushing back her honey-brown hair, Annika stood in the mirror, surveying her much-too-thin-to-be-healthy figure. The tunic she wore hung off of her bony shoulders and swayed around her thin hips. Her hair framed her thin face and shallow cheeks. How had she gotten to be so...ill looking? That must be it. She thought. Maybe stress was another cause? Or how she often skimped on meals? Maybe the excessive amount of time she had spent inside and lack of exercise? She pulled the tunic over her head and sucked in her breath, revealing the imprint of her ribcage. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, then blindly dressed in her Thieves Guild armour and tugged her hair into a low bun, then slipped a hood over that, but not before coating her lashes in a thick black makeup, making her appear ghostly. As she walked, the once tightfitting leather was oddly baggy, but not loose enough to be noticable. When she arrived outside, she quickly pulled down her hood and released the pins holding in her honey coloured tresses, letting her hair tumble down to her chest. It was surprisingly warm outside, while Annika thought it had been freezing. _Maybe it was just being in Vilkas' presence._ She thought, a grim smile flashing across her face. _Or maybe it's warmer because I'm going somewhere safe for once._

The dark and damp atmosphere of the sewer did not dwindle Annika's joy at seeing her friends again. "Guildmaster? Is that you?" Cynric asked, peering around a training dumby to catch a glimpse of Annika's face. Pushing back her hair, Annika replied, "You bet, old friend." And clapped him on the shoulder with surprising strength.

"Lass?" An accented voice asked, quiet, but loud enough to halt the conversation in the room. "Brynjolf." Annika's voice was warm. The red-haired man hugged her tightly, then released her, standing aside to reveal someone on a bar stool. "Karliah! I-" Annika exclaimed in shock, before the Dunmer woman squeezed the Nord so tightly that Annika had to gasp for breath. "I missed you." Karliah whispered. Annika pryed her arms away and took a step back. "I missed you, too." She replied in a monotone. "How have you been, lass?" Brynjolf asked, pushing Annika onto a stool. "I...I joined the Companions." Neither Brynjolf nor Karliah-any of the Guild, really-liked the Companions, which might have been why she joined them. "Mmm. How have they been treating you?" He asked, lips pursed. "Well enough. I was also...recalled by the Elder Trials." Annika glanced down. It was Karliah who spoke, now. "And what in Oblivion did _they_ want with you?" She asked, venom lacing her voice when she reffered to the Elder Trials. "T'Que asked me to join their tirade against the elves." Annika kept her eyes fixated on her shaking hands. "Which race of elves?" Karliah asked, now pacing angrily in front of Annika. "Bosmer." Her voice was clipped. "They wanted me to fight, and I refused. The next night, Vilkas, from the Companions, came to find me and almost got himself killed, like an idiot."

"I propose we slaughter the lot of them." Karliah said later in the Cistern, once Annika, Brynjolf, and herself had talked in private. The Dunmer stood protectively behind Annika, purple eyes flaming. "Karliah, manslaughter won't solve our problems." Brynjolf sighed. "They're far beyond capable to take out thieves. Even Nightingales can't evade their novice assassins." Annika added, glancing at Karliah. "It'll be alright, little Nightingale." Karliah soothed the Nord, noticing her shaking hands and the fear in her eyes. After...everything, Annika had adopted Gallas' name for Karliah-little Nightingale. "They could burn a city to the ground, without so much as a plan!" Annika exclaimed, now standing. "And I don't doubt their ability to take out the entire of the Thieves Guild," Brynjolf said quietly. "but we're talking about having mages, thieves, warriors, and assassins band together to defeat them. I'm sure the Imperials wouldn't mind helping out, either, lass." Annika cast a glance at Karliah, who nodded. "Karliah will gather the Dark Brotherhood and the college. I'll get the Guild, and you'll take the Companions. We'll meet at your safe house in the woods just east of here." He continued, nodding to Karliah to take her leave. "Alright. I trust you, Brynjolf. This better work out."

**Sorry it took so long. I've just been really busy, but, as I promised, As Cold As Ice and Indigo are my top two priorites right now. I hoped you liked it, as I had fun writing it. See ya later!**


	6. Chapter 6 The Night Before

_**But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable. And life's like an hourglass glued to the table. No one can find the rewind button now, sing it if you understand.**_

_**Whoa, breathe. Just breathe. Oh, breathe. Just breathe. Oh, breathe...just breathe.**_

**Anna Nalick - Just Breathe**

* * *

Annika took a step inside Jorvaskr, the cold filling her once again. Karliah tracked behind her. Apparently, the college and Brotherhood were eager to help once they heard that Annika was involved. Before she could take another step, someone gave her a bear-hug, practically suffocating her. "We thought you were dead." A voice whispered. Vilkas' voice. An arm cut between our embrace. "Let her breath." It sounded almost like a threat coming out of Karliah's mouth. "Who's this?" Vilkas demanded, raising an eyebrow at her Nightingale armour. "Karliah, Vilkas. Vilkas, Karliah. I expect you two to get along." Annika added in a hiss. "She's a Nightingale from the Thieves Guild, like me." During the trip, Annika had donned her Nightingale armour that she had abandoned at the Guild before leaving a few months ago. Who knew she'd have to go back? "We have a request for the Companions." Annika spoke to the whole of Jorvaskr now. "A while ago, a...tribe that used to belong to, called the Elder Trials, recalled me. The leader, T'Que, asked me to fight. I refused," She paused, biting her lip. "which means she'll be coming after me."

"I wish for the Companions to fight alongside the College of Winterhold, the Dark Brotherhood, and the Thieves Guild." At the mention of the other factions, the Companions wrinkled their noses. "Why should we? Why do we have to ally with this scum?" Vilkas asked. Karliah looked like she could have punched him. "Their novice warriors could take out the Companions, and the entire of Whiterun. They are...a tribe of slaughterers and I regret me choice to aid them in their tirade against the Bosmer." Aela gripped her bow. "We'll always fight with you, sister. And anyone that is your ally is ours." She added, nodding at Karliah, who nodded back. Annika smiled. "We'll set out towards Riverwood tomorrow. It's not far from there."

* * *

Annika stood in her chambers in Jorvaskr. This might be the last time she would ever see this room. She closed her eyes and let a tear slide down her cheek. Even if they won, Annika wouldn't be returning to the Companions. She had her things gathered, leaving the room empty. "Annika?" She spun on her heel, now facing Vilkas. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Annika looked down at her feet, tears falling to the floor. "Annika." Vilkas wrapped her in his arms. She looked up at him, tears sparkling in her pale green eyes.

They kissed.

He wound his arms around her waist, as she entangled her fingers in his matted hair. Her back was pressed to the wall, his own trapping her. Scars marred both of them...chests heaving...lips entwined.

Bliss.

**Hehe...hehe...MUHAHAHAHAHAH!**


	7. Chapter 7 Torture

**I'm baaaaack! Sorry for the delay :) I need this chapter to be REALLY good, so I've been writing little oneshots and brainstorming this chapter I filled at least four pages of one of the full sized legal pads. I'm prepared :D**

_**When the daylight comes, I'll have to go. But tonight I wanna hold you so close.**_

**Daylight Maroon Five**

Annika's eyes opened slowly, but the soreness resurfaced much faster. As she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and limped towards the wardrobe, longing and regret filled the pit of her stomach. She opened the oak doors and reached for a black bag at the bottom. From the bag, she threw on a light green dress, an emerald cloak, and a pair of fur shoes. After fastening a dagger on her hip, she turned to face Vilkas, who was not yet awake. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her quill lingered over a crumpled piece of parchment from the wastebasket. Finally, she scrawled,

_Vilkas,_

_I will fight at the battle today, though you will not see me. I'm leaving for good after that. It's too much to explain in a letter, and unsafe to discuss in public - DON'T TRY TO FIND ME. If I wish to return, I will, but I cannot be forced, nor convinced to stay._

_Love,_

_A_

Swallowing back tears, she folded the parchment kissed Vilkas on the forehead gently, fearing that he would wake. When she stepped outside, daylight had just begun to creep along the horizon, bringing a vivid orange sun with it. Before she could even reach War Maiden's, Jon Battle-Born stopped her on the street. "An!" He called, sprinting after her. She spun on her heel, glad that it wasn't Vilkas. "Jon? What do you need?" She asked. "I heard about the battle. I want to gather Whiterun's clans to fight." He stated firmly. Annika bit her lip, eyes miles away, deep in thought. "Alright, but _be careful._" She warned, as he ran towards the Wind District. "Thane," A voice called. Annika sighed and turned back towards the gates. "Yes, Lydia?" She said, voice strained with impatience. "Your _other_ housecarls have arrived. They wish to fight, and the Whiterun guard wishes the same, along with the rest of the cities guards." Annika tilted her head. "How...? Nevermind. Yes, always, yes. You know where we meet, inform them, please." Hoping that that was the end of the interruptions, Annika started towards the gates, again. And she made it out.

Vilkas yawned and stretched, reached for Annika's hand. No one was there. He jumped out of bed, reaching for his sword, then remembering that it was in his breeches. Well, it wouldn't matter anyway. There was no intruder, kidnapper, or assassin waiting for him. Instead, there was a folded note on Annika's nightstand. Vilkas reached for it nervously, fear gripping him. He skimmed over the note, falling back onto the bed as he did. How could he _not _try to find her? Even if last night was just a one-night-stand, it was the most important thing in his life right now. Vilkas had bedded loads of woman, he would not lie, but none of them were as special as Annika. In fact, most of them were tavern wenches, and he had bedded _them_, whereas it was the opposite with Annika. A fresh teardrop stained the _A_ that she had so elegantly signed, but was now splattered in an almost indecipherable blob. Vilkas touched his cheeks. He wasn't crying, so...Annika was still close. If her tears were still wet on the paper, she must still be close. Vilkas stood and quickly ran to his own quarters, where he donned his armour in a rush. Then he set off for the battle, and for Annika.

It was late afternoon when everyone arrived in the secluded house that Annika had built in Falkreath. Vilkas would never forget what he saw. Thousands upon hundreds of soldiers and members of other factions filled the woods. The Companions were among the head of the army, then the mages, and the assassins, then the guards and armies, then the archers, and the thieves were in back. Then they started marching. They marched for one month, all across the land of Skyrim. Each man or guild had enough supplies to last them well beyond their journey to the secluded land between Cyrodil and Skyrim, where bandits roamed free, as it was unmarked land. Then it was time to fight. For miles and miles, tents were scattered across the plains, and beyond that, stretched an expanse of unclaimed ground, that would serve as the battle ground. Eventually, Vilkas became to numb to search. He had lost all sense of hope. Besides, with these numbers, finding her was almost impossible. But that meant that winning was possible. Maybe if they won, he would see her again. Maybe he would get to say goodbye.

Escaping was impossible, but she continued to struggle, even though she became weaker each second. She couldn't break the binds, and her weapons were gone. They had to know...if only she could call out, but a thick layer of cloth stopped her. She managed to get a good few hits on her captors, but then her hands were restrained, too. Suddenly, strength returned to her. She broke through the gag and bindings.

"VILKAS! VILKAS!" She screamed.

Darkness. Crimson. Cold. Numb. Weak.

Darkness.


End file.
